


The Drop and Lift

by MrsDallowaysFlowers



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: AU they meet in Boston, Alternate Universe, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/F, More Fluff, New England, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, Some Canon, less drama, lots of tension, some not canon, the one where ann is a power player
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:27:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23329228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsDallowaysFlowers/pseuds/MrsDallowaysFlowers
Summary: Ann Walker is a new transplant to Boston, a fledgling writer who works in a plant shop. Anne Lister comes in one day looking for a gift. How many times can their paths cross before believing in fate?
Relationships: Anne Lister (1791-1840)/Ann Walker (1803-1854)
Comments: 90
Kudos: 142





	1. Caladium

**Author's Note:**

> Not technically my first fic, but my first in the Gentleman Jack universe. Be kind, I run through the world without a beta. This will be a long ride, so strap in!

Ann Walker had never considered herself a shy woman. Quiet at times, yes, but she was also the type of person that could strike up a conversation with anyone. Her gentle features and big eyes made her more than approachable and her British accent was exotic enough that the random passerby would spill their souls to her within minutes of making contact. Ann never minded it though, she thought of herself as a keeper of stories, a collector of tales. After all, she was a writer. 

And that is why she had fit in perfectly at the tiny little houseplant shop called Caladium in the South End of Boston. Hired on a lucky whim before moving across the pond to the United States just a few months earlier, Ann had settled in amongst the greenery and flora with ease. While she was still getting used to the rough and tumbled goings of Bostonians, she was a confident shop girl while selling at Caladium. Finally, all her years of rummaging around in the gardens of her family’s country home had come in handy. 

The cool spring breeze rustled the grasses in the windowboxes of the subterranean shop. The morning sun beamed through white fluffy clouds as Ann pulled the three metal carts stacked with early spring annuals over the threshold. Ann slid them over into what everyone called the pit, a small paved patio just outside the front door. Because it was just below street level, the pit caught all of the South End’s finest trash and dirt, all of which was to be cleaned up and washed off each morning before opening the shop. Per usual, Ann was early so she took her time setting the carts before washing off the patio with the hose. She slid out of her Birkenstocks and tossed them inside before letting the strong stream of water splash up against her bare feet and legs. It was a mindless job, perfect before opening the shop to the frequent onslaught of demanding neighborhood clients. The South End was bougie to say the least. A bunch of new money tied in with old money resources. Customers always needed to know each detail about every plant in the shop before settling on a basic choice. It wasn’t hard for Ann to connect to those types of people, though. She had spent her youth navigating relationships with all of her extremely wealthy family members, even though she hated every minute of it. Working in a shop like Caladium wasn’t a challenge at all. 

Emptying her mind, Ann moved the stream coming out of the hose back and forth across the tile, pushing the dirt and murky water towards the drain.

“Excuse me, are you open?”

Before turning around, Ann rolled her eyes so hard that she felt the edges of her eyelids start to turn up. She took a deep breath and spun on her bare heels.

“We technically don’t --”

Two things clicked in Ann’s mind, effectively rendering her speechless. One: the voice lilted and swung low in a similar accent to her own, though it was definitely a few octaves deeper. Two: The woman standing at the top of the stairs was an absolute vision -- a goddess in black skinny dress pants and heels. Her hair was cut and styled in an angular bob that floated to one side as she tilted her head in Ann’s direction. A pair of big maroon cat eye sunglasses sat perched on her nose. Her lipstick perfectly matched.

Suddenly Ann felt quite self conscious standing there in her cutoffs and bare feet. She cleared her throat and tried again.

“Yeah, of course. Let me clean up out here and I’ll be right with you.”

“Great, thank you!”

The mystery woman gave her the biggest smile before ducking into the shop. 

Ann stood in place for a moment feeling like she was caught in the twilight zone. A chill crept up her abdomen like an ice cube sliding against her stomach. Looking down, Ann realized that she had been holding the dripping hose against her middle, effectively soaking the front of her t-shirt and shorts. Flinging the hose down, she ran her fingers through the knots in her long curly hair.

“Oh, good lord Walker. Pull it together.” 

***

Stepping inside the shop, Ann was glad to see that the woman was making herself comfortable, perusing the shelves of plants and terrariums. Her sunglasses were balanced on top of her head, pushing her hair back and showing off the row of diamond studs along her left ear. Ann quickly flipped the lights on as she walked by and then ducked behind the register, sweeping her jacket and bag along with her to store in the backroom. The woman was putting her on edge, but Ann gave it up to not having the register open even though it was a full twenty minutes before the shop was supposed to be open. Also, she was a total smoke show. Good lord. Ann grabbed her apron off the back of the door and slipped it on. 

Realigning herself at the counter, Ann quickly opened the register and flipped on the radio -- filling the small shop with the sounds of Fleetwood Mac. She opened her mouth to say something, to ask what the woman was looking for.

“Is there --”

“I’m so glad you’re open early! I was just walking by and remembered I need to get a gift for a colleague of mine that is retiring.”

The woman turned and looked at Ann, directing that megawatt smile right at her. Her heart jumped up in her throat. Ann tried to force it back down. Only then did she realize that the woman was wearing a very deep cut blouse under her blazer, exposing the cream lace of a balconette. Ann’s eyes drifted down and then shot back up to the woman’s face. 

Walker. Get. It. Together. 

“Oh, it’s no problem! I always try to get here early, just in case. It’s nice to not have to rush when I’m opening. I’m definitely into slow mornings.”

The woman’s eyebrow shot up and she smirked. A little of Ann died inside. 

“Um…do you know what kind of plant they would like? We have pre-potted plants and terrariums, but you can also custom pick the plant and pot combination. I could always custom plant a terrarium to your liking. We also have any kind of houseplant supplies you might need. Just in case. Don’t know if they need anything like that at all...um. Yeah.”

Jesus christ. 

“I guess I’m not sure what I’m looking for. I know he likes plants, but is a notorious murderer of anything leafy -- he tends to drone on about it during staff meetings. But who knows. He’ll probably have all kinds of time on his hands now that he’s not teaching.”

Ann stepped out from behind the counter and picked up a medium sized tropical terrarium. 

“I always like to give terrariums as gifts. They’re easy to wrap but also pretty easy to care for. Tropical terrariums keep the moisture inside, so you don’t have to water as often. Might give him a little project so he doesn’t get bored. Plus if he kills it he can bring it to us and we can replant it for him.”

The woman stepped towards Ann, her height becoming painfully obvious. With her the woman brought a waft of spicy perfume that overtook Ann like a freight train. 

“Yes! That’s absolutely perfect. I’ll do that.”

“Of course!”

“I certainly appreciate the prompt service. It seems I’m always in a hurry these days.”

All Ann could do was smile. She took the terrarium and carried it behind the counter. 

Happy to be rid of small talk, Ann wrapped the terrarium in a box and took to writing out care instructions on a card and then slid it into the bag along with some tissue paper. She directed the woman to the register screen to accept the total. She stepped up to the register, her hand in her briefcase fishing around for her wallet. After she swiped her card, the woman looked right at Ann. Her eyes were so dark, almost black, but warm. Lit with a kindness Ann wasn’t used to. 

“Am I hearing a northern accent from you?”

Ann couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, actually. I grew up right outside Hallifax. Good catch.”

“After all my years in the Boston area I’ve developed a knack for finding my own kind. It’s definitely a melting pot of culture and backgrounds here but I always am thrilled to meet someone from home, if you know what I mean.” 

Finally, Ann connected the dots.

“Wait, are you from Hallifax as well?”

“I certainly am, though I’ve been moving around the world since I was able to.”

A rush of warmth washed over Ann, as if her defensive shield was sliding off of her shoulders. She had only been in Boston for a few months and had desperately been trying to fight off the depression of homesickness. And now she was standing in front of someone who had probably walked the same streets and sat at the same cafes as she had at home, even if their paths had never crossed. Ann couldn’t let her get away without getting her name.

“Well, lovely lady from Hallifax. I’m Ann.”

Ann held out her hand and when the woman took it, she felt her knees buckle just a little bit. A firm handshake, but a warm palm and strong fingers. Ann disguised her reaction by sliding against the register and letting out a small giggle.

“Isn’t that something. I’m Anne. But with an ‘e.’ What are the odds?”

Ann watched as Anne’s hand slid from hers and grabbed her shopping bag. 

“I better be off. Don’t want to be late!” 

Anne turned and walked towards the door, her heels clicking against the hardwood slats. 

“Come back and see me sometime!”

Anne looked back, her sunglasses already rehomed on her nose. 

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll definitely be back.” 

And with that, Anne was gone.

Ann stood at the counter for a minute, wondering what the actual hell had just happened. The morning light beamed through the front window, a faint shine of dust floating in the air. Ann put her head down on the counter and tried to collect herself.

Walker. What. The. Fuck.

The chime of her phone pulled her out of her stupor. It was her coworker. Harriet the model, Ann called her. 

_Hey Ann! Could you cover my shift this afternoon? Got a gig. Need the money._

Ann sighed and fanned at her wet shirt under her apron. It was certainly going to be a long day. 


	2. The Missing Muses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are. Thank you for your lovely comments and support! Still flying beta-less <3

The late days of spring slipped by as Ann worked daily shifts at Caladium. Even though her co-workers were a few years younger than her and just in their first years of undergraduate schooling, Ann had taken a liking to each of them. Harriet the model had a very bizarre sense of fashion, typically pairing vintage silk skirts with combat boots and skimpy crop tops -- but had a sincere heart of gold, even if it took her a few moments to follow a conversation. Catherine, however, was Ann’s favorite. She was from the Midwest, near Chicago, and Ann had taken an immediate liking to her. Catherine was in charge of Caladium’s social media but also worked shifts in the shop, just like Ann. She was tall and dressed exclusively in shades of black, tan and cream, the effortless image of every Instagram influencer. However, Catherine was as real as they come and Ann was grateful for her friendship. 

It was the last week of June and Ann was walking back to the shop from delivering a very large fiddle leaf fig tree to a local client. It always amazed her when extremely wealthy male clients, ones that probably spent hours running on the treadmill at Equinox, asked her if she could deliver larger plants to their homes, just mere blocks away. That was how tiny Ann Walker ended up lugging a tree three times her size up the stairs of a three-story brownstone while the customer and his wife looked on. As she walked back down Newton street towards the shop with the dolly, she massaged the muscles of her left arm which were on the verge of cramping. She could feel the glaze of sweat covering her forehead as her breathing returned to normal. At least the guy had shoved a $20 tip in her hand when she left, though it wasn’t like she needed the money. The cobblestones lead her to Tremont street, where she hung a left onto the busier sidewalk that took her past all the shops and cafes until she ended up back in front of Caladium. Inside, Catherine was waiting for her.

“Ooooh, how did that go? Was he an asshole?”

Ann couldn’t help but laugh as she pushed the dolly into the back room.

“He wasn’t half bad. His wife seemed like a real twat though.”

Brandishing the fresh $20 bill, Ann came back behind the counter.

“Drinks after work?”

Catherine pushed the frames of her large glasses down to the end of her nose, her large brown eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Abso-fucking-lutely. Adelaide has been running circles around me today.”

Adelaide, Caldium’s owner, wasn’t much older than Ann, but had a definite head for business. Her husband was a big-whig at a Boston based marketing company, which allowed her to create Caladium without much thought of economic failure. Lucky for all of them, Bostonians love their houseplants and window boxes. 

“Fantastic. I’m probably going to go to Starbucks and write. Meet me over there after you’re done here. Where should we go? Deluxe has those delicious cauliflower tacos!”

Ann slung her bag over her shoulder as Catherine gave her a thumbs up affirmative. As Ann started to walk towards the door, she was overcome with the warmth of belonging. She was so very happy that this place and it’s people had come into her life.

***

Writing was not going well for Ann Walker. She sat slumped at the counter window seat in the corner Starbucks, an empty iced caramel macchiato cup pooling watery sweat dangerously close to her notebook. While many other writers her age tended to lean all of their dependencies onto technology, Ann prefered to write longhand before transcribing her stories into a Word document. She thought it added a lot to her editing process as well, when it was working. However, the page open to her was full of sloppy script with a lot of black blobs where she had crossed sections out with her pen. 

Ann took her glasses off and rubbed her forehead. It seemed that the creative muses were taking a very, very long sabbatical from her mind, though she was desperate to keep her pen moving. Even if it was painful, Ann wrote multiple pages every day, no matter what decided to come out of her. Sometimes all she wrote was what she ate for breakfast, but at least it was something. 

Head in her hand and pen between her teeth, Ann gazed out the window. She watched as the passerby rounded the corner of Tremont and strolled down the side street in front of her. There were all types of people out enjoying the sunshine, from nanny’s pushing prams to hipsters walking their dogs to extremely dapper businessmen with briefcases and phones pressed to their ears. Then, from around the corner came someone that Ann hadn’t even thought she would see again.

It was Anne. 

She looked all the bit of a goddess that Ann remembered from more than a month ago, but was much more agitated. She was talking on her phone and had stalled at the corner, her hands making wild gestures into the air. Ann swore she could see the veins in her neck straining against the collar of her white button down. It was then that Ann realized that Anne was wearing suspenders attached to her flared black dress pants. When she turned, Ann saw that her bust was much larger than she realized when she had met Anne -- and that she was all sharp angles in some places but had soft curves where it mattered most. Ann felt like her eyes were going to pop out of her skull, so she buried her head in her hands, pressing her fingers into the sockets. 

Holy. Shit. Ann chastised herself for letting her thoughts run into the gutter. Yes, Ann was into women (really an understatement, she was undeniabley attracted to the fairer sex to the point of obsession) but that didn’t mean she should go ogling whenever she wanted like some teenage boy. 

After a few moments, Ann pulled her hands away from her face and felt her stomach drop down to her toes. Anne was gone. It figured of course. Because Ann was over and over again denied the simple pleasures of getting even a little bit of what she wanted. Even a glimpse.

Get your shit together, Ann thought. Maybe try writing about her. Maybe that will help. Or not. Or something. Ann put her glasses back on and picked up her pen, ready for another battle. She put the pen to paper and started scrawling.

Lost in herself, finally, Ann startled when the chair beside her scraped against the floor when it was pulled out. She heard a cup being set down on the counter. And then another cup. And then a bag being set down on the floor. The spicy scent of perfume flooded her senses and Ann almost toppled out of her seat before she even had the chance to raise her eyes from her notebook.

There, standing beside her with two cups of coffee in front of her, was Anne in all of her glory. The same Anne she had been lamenting about in the pages of her notebook, still open.

“Hi.” 

“Um...hi.”

Anne smirked before pushing herself up onto the seat, hooking her heels into the rungs for support. 

“I thought that was you when I was passing by. Though you look far more distressed than I remember you being.”

Ann could barely get a squeak to come out of her mouth.

“Um...yeah,” Ann gestured to her notebook. “It’s...a struggle sometimes. You know. Just to get going. And keep it going.” 

“So you  _ are _ a writer! I was curious if my suspicions were correct after that day in the shop. Thank you, by the way. The terrarium was a smashing success.”

Anne had thought about her. Anne had thought about her enough to wonder what she did outside of Caldium. 

“How did you know?”

Reaching over, Anne slid her palm over Ann’s wrist and wrapped her fingers around the small bones there. She pulled her hand toward her, flipping it over, and the pen fell from between Ann’s fingers, exposing a series of ink stains. 

“Bingo.”

Ann had to laugh at that, even though Anne’s probing eyes were burning holes right into her soul. Again. When Anne’s fingers unwrapped from around her wrist, Ann met her gaze and forced herself to swallow all of the spit that had suddenly pooled in her mouth.

“Oh. Shit. Yeah, even these modern pens can’t keep me from making a mess all over.” 

Ann prayed that she didn’t sound half as daft as she felt like she was being. Social cues weren’t her forte, especially in these types of situations. 

Anne slid one of the cups over towards Ann.

“I thought you could use a refill. To inspire the muses to make a reappearance, perhaps.”

An iced caramel macchiato. 

“How did you know this is my favorite drink?

“Luck guess.”

Anne winked and slid off her chair before collecting her own coffee and bag from the floor.

“Best of luck with those muses, Ann.”

And with that, Anne turned and walked out the side door and onto the street, leaving Ann to wonder what the hell just hit her. As Ann reminded herself to breathe, she inhaled the remaining notes of Anne’s perfume. 


	3. Deluxe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be a few days before I can update again, but here's this little nugget of a chapter. Though going forward I do want to try to update every day or two. 
> 
> I tend to enjoy keeping myself shrouded in mystery -- but I will say it's a joy to write about places I am extremely comfortable with. 
> 
> Ps. Anne Lister inspired by Rachel Bailey?
> 
> Pps. thank you for your lovely comments. It makes the job easier. <3

III

Ann Walker was all fired up. After spending hours toiling away at fragments of her essay, which turned out to be garbage because all she could think about was Anne, she slammed the lid of her laptop shut and packed up her stuff. Even though it was only Wednesday night, the energy that roared through her was similar to what she felt only on the weekends. Ann had a strong desire to lose herself and her emotions somehow, some way. The combination of a shitty writing session and her encounter with Anne had really set her on edge.

Ann stepped out onto the sidewalk and briskly walked the few steps to Caladium and trotted down the stairs. When she flung the door open, Catherine was just sweeping the floor before closing up.

“Whoah, I thought I was going to meet you after I closed!”

“Well, change of plans. Any objections?”

Catherine just laughed and stooped down to sweep up the pile of dirt she was wrangling. Ann slipped into the backroom to the hallway, where their tiny bathroom was. There she pulled her makeup from her bag and gave herself the best five-minute glow-up she could. She smudged on brown eyeliner and did her eyebrows before dusting her cheeks with coral rouge and painted her lips with a matte orange lipstick that had been rolling around in the bottom of her bag for months. Ann shook her hair out of its bun and let her curls fall in messy waves around her shoulders. She looked at her reflection in the grimy mirror and decided it was good enough. The only thing she could do about her outfit was spray a little perfume and drag out her jean jacket from her bag and throw it on. Ann left her backpack in the back room, taking only her wallet and phone, sliding them into the inside pocket of her jacket. She’d come back for her bag later, on the way home. 

Catherine was touching up her lipstick in the reflection of the shop’s iPad when Ann came out behind the register.

“You ready for some weeknight drinks?”

Minutes later they were arm in arm, quickly walking up Berkley street, Deluxe in their sights. 

***

Deluxe was absolutely packed at 8 p.m. It was a neighborhood joint that drew in the crowds even though it was a weeknight and a cash only spot. Inside the bar was lit with dim light bulbs and strand after strand of rainbow string lights and the walls were plastered with old ephemera. It was a small place that required a small bit of talent to secure seats when it was as busy as it was, but it was still one of Catherine and Ann’s favorite spots. 

They milled in front of the bar for a few seconds, mapping out their plan of action. A couple in the corner were counting out bills for their check. At the bar, two men had upturned their glasses, draining the last drops of beer from the bottoms. Catherine looked at Ann.

“Bar or table?”

“Table. I want to be comfortable while I drink my weight in prosecco cocktails.”

Like the professionals they were, they waited while the couple donned their jackets and stood. Then, quickly, Ann and Catherine descended on the table from both sides, just beating a man that had walked in behind them. 

Settling in, they fingered the menus in front of them.

“Damn, Ann. We’ve still got the touch!”

After that, Ann knew it was going to be a great night.

***

“Catherine. Really. She is right up there with Cate Blanchett. Mysterious. Striking. Fucking gorgeous. And then, she just pops up to hand me a fucking caramel macchiato? I don’t even know what to say about that.”

Ann sipped on her fourth cocktail of the night while Catherine was finishing up her own. A demolished plate of cauliflower tacos sat on the table between them, nothing left but crumbs. The din of the bar roared around them, but Ann had never been more comfortable. Everything had softened around the edges and her head was swimming pleasantly. 

“You know, Ann, one of the things I love about you is that you can instantly fall in love with someone without even knowing them.”

“Catherine!” Ann shouted comically over the rim of her glass. “I am  _ not _ in love with her. That’s preposterous. I need at least another three minutes with her to make that happen.”

The pair erupted in laughter.

“All I’m saying is that you have plenty of time for a summer fling before you start your classes in the fall. I’m sure she could provide ample inspiration while you gear up for your grad school program.”

“Fling? I don’t even know her. I don’t know anything about her except she’s a fucking bombshell and her name is Anne. And she’s maybe a teacher. Or something. And she’s probably married or has a partner. Or she’s not even gay. Women like that usually aren’t just ‘available.’ There’s always a catch.”

Catherine just cocked her eyebrow at her.

“What! It’s true!”

“Yeah, okay! But Ann, it really wouldn’t kill you to get laid. How long has it been? It’s a literal sex-desert you’re living in. If I was in your position I’d be trying to stab my eyes out with frustration.”

Ann rolled her eyes to playfully brush Catherine off but her mind quickly flipped back to that afternoon with Anne standing so close to her, those dark eyes shining and those fingers pushing that coffee in her direction. Her voice. Her perfume. Her words. She felt her chest flush and creep up her neck. 

“I dunno, Catherine. I just don’t know.”

Catherine pushed back from the table and stood up.

“I’m going to pee and then I’m getting another drink. Do you want one?”

Ann definitely wanted another one, but she also felt too hot. Like she was wearing too many layers all of the sudden. She clumsily shed her jean jacket and stood up after Catherine.

“Is that even a question? Actually, I’m gonna go get some fresh air. Especially if we’re continuing this drinking adventure. I’m absolutely roasting.”

They placed their coasters on top of the glasses to hold their table.

“Do you need supervision? Can I trust you not to bum cigarettes off some rando?”

“Oooh Catherine, your lack of trust is alarming!”

“Pfffft. I just know you too well.”

“Hey now. Oh, and don’t forget to call Will when you’re in there. He’ll worry that you’re not home yet.”

“Oh, poor Will. I love him to death but if he’s not going to hustle and get a job, he can deal with me coming home late.”

Ann left Catherine at the bar and stepped out the front door into the cool night air in just her t-shirt. The quiet sounds of the neighborhood surrounded her and the breeze danced along her neck, a welcome relief from the full body flush she found herself in just moments before. As she propped herself against the side of the building, she tried to quell her desire for a cigarette. Catherine definitely knew her too well, especially her habit of smoking when she was inebriated. She never bought them anymore, not since her rebellious teenage years back in Hallifax, but she had been known to charm a fag or two off a stranger outside whatever bar she found herself in. However, the streets around Deluxe were empty. Ann pulled out her phone, thinking that only an hour had passed since they had arrived. Instead the screen on her phone lit up to reveal it was actually approaching 10:30. In her head she quickly ran the timetables for the T, the orange line ran until midnight but the bus from Forest Hills to her apartment in West Roxbury was scarce in the early morning hours. Maybe Catherine would let her crash at her place. They could take a cab. 

The sound of laughter coming from a few blocks away caught Ann’s attention. Between the alcohol and the street lights, she couldn’t really make them out. It was a young group, from the sound of it. The pack was led by a few young men, college aged but very dapper. She smiled at them as they opened the door and filed into the bar. A few women followed, and Ann realized that she could only concentrate on one person at a time as they went into the bar, which struck her as ridiculously funny. Everyone in the group had a certain aura about them that screamed “privileged hipster trying to slum it in college.” Those were her people. She had been surrounded by that type since her journey had landed her in a writing program at university all those years ago. 

A few at the back of the pack stumbled, talking amongst themselves.

“Hey, where did Professor Lister go?”

“Wasn’t she walking with us?”

“She said she had to stop by her place. Said she’d be right behind us.”

As the door closed behind them, Ann chuckled at her ability to correctly identify the social standing of anyone at any time. No matter how much she had been drinking. 

Catherine must be looking for me by now, she thought. With a deep breath, she steeled herself to reenter the bar. Ann flexed her shoulder blades to push herself off the wall, but then a pair of figures striding down the sidewalk had her falling back into her spot. 

Ann blinked once. Twice. By the time she realized what was happening Anne was about to stroll right by her, deep in conversation with the woman beside her. When Anne reached for the door and pulled it open, her body was positioned so that she had to look right at Ann. She immediately let the door go and it slid shut right in front of her companion’s face.

“Anne! What the hell?”

“Well, fancy seeing you here!”

Anne backtracked down the steps.

“Marian, this is the woman I was telling you about. The one at the plant store.”

The other woman, apparently named Marian, brightened at Anne’s words, the tightness of her face sliding away. From the steps, she reached over and offered her hand.

“Oh, so lovely to meet you! I’m Marian. Anne’s sister.” 

Her voice was higher than Anne’s but just as comforting. A taste of home. Ann shook her hand and offered a genuine smile. 

“Oh, likewise! Do you live in Boston, too?”

“No, just visiting for a few weeks. I’ve got to go home in a few days. But it’s always nice to visit for a bit!”

“Marian likes to visit the  _ exotic _ land that is the United States but absolutely despises it if she can’t leave before a month is up.”

“If one more person says they love my accent, I’m actually going to scream.”

“I definitely know what you mean,” Ann laughed. “It’s a never ending battle.” 

“If all these Americans like my accent so much, maybe they should have thought about that before leaving England in the first place!”

“Marian, can you go see if they got a table? I can’t usually trust them to find the bathroom, let alone secure a table.”

“Sure thing, Annie. Ann, it was lovely to meet you. Best of luck with the Americans.”

Ann watched as Anne rolled her eyes up as her sister went into the bar. 

“She’s so dramatic,” Anne said. “What brings you to this neighborhood haunt?’

Internally, Ann was screaming her head off. She begged her foggy brain to catch up, to come up with something intelligent to say. Anything. Her stomach dropped deep into itself, so deep that it felt like she was swinging upside down.

“Um. Just having a few drinks with a friend. After work.”

Anne stepped closer while fishing into her purse that was slung over her shoulder. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, which she balanced between her fingers. 

“Do you mind?”

“Not if you share.”

Anne grinned and stepped even closer, popping a cigarette from the pack and sliding it between her lips. Ann couldn’t help but stare. Every move Anne made was elegant and charismatic. Almost calculated. Ann wondered if she knew this. When Anne sparked the lighter and lit the end of the cigarette while looking her right in the eye, Ann realized with complete certainty that Anne knew exactly how she came off. Anne offered the lit cigarette to Ann, and when she took it their fingers brushed slightly. Ann couldn’t slide the filter between her lips fast enough.

She watched as Anne lit her own cigarette and leaned against the building so her body was mirroring Ann’s. Even though it was much earlier in the day when they had crossed paths, Anne looked exactly the same, if not better. Maybe Ann was just looking at her more. Maybe Anne was just standing closer. More attainable but still as rigid.

“What about you?” Ann tried. “What are you doing out so late on a weeknight?

“Mmmmm. Well. That crew of hooligans you undoubtedly saw before wanted to celebrate the end of spring so here I am. And it’s close to home. ”

“Are you a professor?”

Anne cocked her eyebrow and smirked.

“Ah, yes. I am. Of sorts. I started off as a visiting lecturer but then they liked me so much that they asked me to say. Must be the accent.”

Ann felt her eyes widen, and then she realized Anne was joking.

“Oh, god. Yes, I’m sure you’ve charmed the pants off of many of your students.”

It took until Ann saw that Anne had frozen, hand to her lips, cigarette smoldering in her left hand, that she realized exactly what she had said. Her face burned with embarrassment.

“I mean, I don’t mean that. What I just said. I mean that you’re just remarkably charming. I mean.”

Anne tilted her head back to the sky and let out the most amazing laugh Ann had ever heard into the night air.

“Oh, Ann. You’re a clever one, aren’t you?”

Ann thought she would fall over and die on the sidewalk. Maybe it was some kind of alcohol induced fantasy she was rolling around in. There is no way this could be real life, she thought. 

Anne snuffed her cigarette out on the bottom of her shoe and then tossed it in the direction of the street garbage bin. Ann shuffled her feet to stretch her legs, but ended up stumbling right into Anne, who quickly reached out and grabbed her arm and pulled her upright. Her grip was strong, unwavering. That perfume, still as strong as ever. Their eyes met and Anne let go, trailing her hand down to her wrist. She flipped her palm over, exposing the ink stains that were darker and more plentiful than earlier in the afternoon. 

“How are those muses?”

Anne’s thumb ran down the middle of her palm, tracing down her ring finger which was splotched with black ink. Ann felt herself leaning in. Closer even. Goosebumps erupted all the way up her bare arm. 

The door to Deluxe swung open and Catherine appeared in the corner of Ann’s vision.

“Ann, what are you doing out here? Smoking a whole pack? Your drink is all watery now.”

Anne immediately dropped Ann’s hand and took a step back. She turned to Catherine with a megawatt smile. 

“She was just keeping me company!”

Catherine looked to Ann, then over to Anne, and the back to Ann. A mischievous, knowing smile crept onto her face.

“Hi, I’m Catherine. Ann and I work together at Caldium. And, you are?”

Anne laughed at the faux snarkiness falling from Catherine’s mouth.

“Anne Lister. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Ohhh, Anne. Anne Lister. I’ve heard a lot about you!”

“Oh, have you? How lovely.”

“Ann, are you coming back inside or what?”

Ann startled. 

“Of course! Let me...just…”

Ann threw her cigarette on the pavement and stamped it out with the toe of her shoe before making her way up to Catherine, who was holding the door open.

As they shuffled inside through the crowd at the bar, Ann could feel Anne move up behind her and slide a hand along her waist, toward the slope of her jean clad hipbone. 

“Have a good rest of your evening, Ann.”

And with a strong squeeze, Anne was gone.

Ann whipped around to see that Anne had her arm flung around Marian at the bar, already joking with some of the men in her group. 

What the fuck was happening?

Back at their table, Ann make quick work of her watery cocktail while Catherine cackled maniacally at her.

“Well, I’ll give you this Ann. Her accent is fucking sexy as hell. And I’ve never seen you crushing this hard on someone before.”

Ann rolled her eyes and then spent the rest of her cocktail pretending that she was listening to Catherine, but was really staring at the side of Anne’s head from across the room, just in case Anne would turn and look at her. That profile of hers was absolutely a work of art. Like a Roman statue.

Anne did turn to look at her. Once. She winked at her and Ann choked on the bottom of her drink. Anne’s eyes twinkled with delight.

When Ann and Catherine stood to leave, their check settled with a pile of cash on the table, Ann realized they’d have to walk right behind Anne’s group. As they approached them, Ann caught a surge of bravado and mimicked Anne’s early action by clutching at her hip as she slid behind her, masked by the crowd.

“Goodnight, Professor.”

Before they could make it out the door, Ann was rewarded by a shell-shocked Anne staring back at her, mouth stuck open in mid conversation. Ann smiled sweetly and followed Catherine out the door. 

Once on the street, Catherine playfull slugged Ann’s arm.

“Ann Walker, you are one sly dog.”


	4. Boston Public Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are again. Weird times we're living in, right? Even though the days are easily filled with doom + gloom, lets all take some of our day to celebrate Anne Lister's birthday! 
> 
> This story is going off the rails of my outline already. Not like I'm complaining! This chapter is a little shorter than what's typical, but I wanted it to get it out so y'all can read it! <3 
> 
> Still no beta. Still don't care. Ha!

IV

Ann Walker had always been good at distracting herself from a stressful task at hand, but by the end of June she realized that she needed to get herself in gear. Come September she would be thrust into the depths of an extremely competitive MFA program. Even though she knew she was remarkably intelligent and talented, she also knew that she had to work harder than a lot of other students. As much as she loved being in an academic setting, Ann easily faltered during academic conversations and other high-stress social situations. While her brain was cranking at full capacity, it was rare that she would be able to string together any type of intelligent, coherent sentence. Because of that, she spent most of her years at university sulking off to dark corners during parties and rarely spoke during class. Much to her delight it seemed to give her a mysterious aura that attracted people, instead of the opposite which she always feared. 

At any rate, within three months she was going to be way out of her element at an American university and she needed to ready herself. That is how she found herself sorting through the stacks of the Boston Public Library in Copley Square. She had her schedule, three classes with professors she had never heard of before with a pre-semester reading list that was attainable -- but Ann wanted to be overly prepared. She was happy that she had the Boston Public Library at her fingertips. A humongous institution, the building towered over Copley Square as a palace of literature and art, all open to whomever wanted to walk through the doors and pillage its treasures. It was one of the first places that Ann visited when she moved to Boston and she felt so at home there that she frequently found herself yearning to walk its halls whenever she wasn’t working. She loved everything about the building, from the tea room to the courtyard to the third floor hall that was painted floor to ceiling with John Singer Sargent originals. It was easy for her to concentrate there. She found that when she was tucked into any of her favorite hiding spots, the words poured straight from her soul onto the page. 

Ann ran her finger along the binding of a book before pulling it out and adding it to the three already piled in the crook of her left arm. Determining that she had done enough damage, she flopped the stack on the circulation counter and patiently waited for the librarian to scan her card and each book. With a shy smile, Ann slid the books back into her arms and walked the few steps down the hall in order to get a better view of the courtyard. As she stepped out of the building, she realized that all of the cafe tables along the sides of the garden were full, each occupied by one or two people sipping coffee, dallying on laptops or with their noses stuck in a book. 

Resigned but not wanting to admit defeat, Ann strolled around the courtyard in the shadow of the surrounding buildings hoping that someone would leave and she could snap a table in the warm sunshine. She stopped at a corner and leaned against the gargantuan stone column, pondering whether or not she should just toss the books in her bag and go lay out on the Copley Square lawn or wait it out for a table.

“You know, the longer you stare at them the longer they’re going to sit there, not giving up their seats.”

Ann jumped, immediately dropping her books and pressing a palm into her chest. When she whipped around, she came face-to-face with none other than Anne Lister. But it wasn’t just Anne Lister; it was Anne Lister lite, which made Ann all the more surprised. Gone were the power suits and heels -- she was wearing a black and red flannel, boyfriend jeans with the hems cuffed up and white converse. Oversized black sunglasses perched on the top of her head and a canvas tote dangled off her shoulder. 

“Ann! I didn’t mean to scare you. Although, that was quite funny.”

Ann watched as Anne kneeled in front of her and picked up her books, then stood and offered them back to her. Ann took them back while openly gawking at the person standing in front of her. 

“Ann, you okay?”

Ann blinked a few times before shaking the fog out of her head.

Had she thought about Anne after that night at Deluxe? Of course. Almost obsessively. Every day she dreamed of running into her while walking from the T to Caladium. Ann routinely walked six blocks out of her way just in case it would open up her chances of running into Anne. Over the last few weeks she hasn’t had a glimpse of her. Not even once. And then, out of the blue, Anne just appeared in the courtyard of the Boston Public Library. What were the odds?

“Jesus Christ. You just scared me.”

“Hmmm. Yes. I guess I did.”

Anne smiled, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You know, Ann, I was wondering when I’d run into you again. It seems like we have the same stomping grounds.”

“Do you come here often?” Ann choked out.

“I do, especially since it’s such a short walk from my house. What about you?”

“I’m here all the time. I’m surprised we haven’t run into each other yet.”

Anne laughed and adjusted her shirt.

“Who knows, maybe we have and just didn’t know it.”

Ann shuffled her feet and, desperate for something to do with her hands, started sliding the books from her arms into her messenger bag.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think I could run into someone like you and not remember it.”

When Ann righted herself, Anne was staring at her with the most focused, interested gaze. No one had ever looked at Ann that way before. The taller woman took a step forward so that their bodies were just inches apart. Ann’s heart thudded against her ribcage to the point where she could barely breathe. 

“Have you ever been to the  Athenæum ?”

Ann caught herself leaning forward and pushed back on her heels. For a brief moment, she swore that Anne was going to do something crazy - like lean in and kiss her.

“The what?”

“The Boston  Athenæum. It’s one of the most majestic private libraries in this entire country. Floors and floors of rare, prized books. Private reading rooms. Access to all kinds of documents and volumes that the public library can’t give you. The best librarians around. It is the most magnificent place.”

Ann had never been and had most certainly never heard of it. It also sounded like all of the high class places she had tried to remove herself from. 

“No, I’ve never been. It sounds kind of...pretentious, actually. Shouldn’t books be free for whoever wants to access them?”

Anna threw back her head and laughed, her hair falling to the sides, revealing a series of delicate hoops and studs that lined each ear. 

“Oh, well. It depends on who you run into when you’re there. Most everyone keeps to themselves, but there are a few older members from old Brahmin society that will try to put you in your place. But mostly the pros outweigh the cons.”

“Brahmin?”

“Oh Ann, how long have you been living here? You have so much to learn about Boston!”

Silence grew between them like a magnet. Ann felt like her head was somewhere in the clouds and when she breathed in all she could smell was the spice of Anne’s perfume. Suddenly, Anne’s hand was wrapped around her bare forearm, her fingers pressed into her flesh. 

“What are you doing right now? Are you busy?”

“Um...no. No plans. It’s my day off.”

Anne’s smile could have lit up the entire courtyard if it had been dark.

“Perfect. Let me take you over there. It’s not far. Just a quick walk on the other side of the Common.”

And before she knew it, Anne was pulling her back into the library and then she was following her down the hundreds of stairs that led down to Dartmouth street. Anne had her sunglasses back on and was chattering wildly, her arms and hands moving in a surprisingly animated fashion.

“I just know you’re going to love it. And, maybe on the way there I can fill you in on some of Boston’s history. If for nothing else, you need to know something about the city you’re living in. That’s very important!”

Ann didn’t quite know what kind of twilight zone she was falling into, the warm sun was shining on her face and Anne Lister was taking her through the streets of Boston to somewhere she thought was special. Ann certainly wasn’t going to complain.


	5. The Walk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would be lying if I said that I didn't struggle while coming back with this one! A bit shorter than usual, but that's just me trying to get through it with lovely A + A. Trying to get on my writing feet again, so be kind <3 Thank you all for your continued support - I should be updating this more frequently now!
> 
> Still no beta...still don't care?

Ann Walker felt like she was living in a dream. She walked side-by-side with Anne as they wove in and out of the lunchtime crowds that filled the sidewalks. Ann tried to mentally store everything Anne was telling her so she could relive it later, but Anne was prattling on so quickly that her mind was struggling with what exactly it should be paying attention to. Should her mind be focused on the way Anne’s shoulder brushed against Ann’s when she made large, grandiose gestures with her hands? Or should it be trying to compile all of the historical facts Anne was throwing out into the air, faster than Ann could ever have imagined. As they walked, Ann felt herself flex between the butterflies swarming in her stomach and the mind numbing anxiety that told her there was no way that she would be able to keep up with Anne. All of her confidence from her previous encounters with her dissipated into thin air. Maybe it was the stress of the impending semester weighing on her, changing her mental balance. Yes, Anne was making her nervous. Anne was ridiculously charismatic, and knew it, but was also genuinely attentive. Ann didn’t know what to do with that. The Anne in front of her wasn’t the sultry Anne from the time at Starbucks, or from the night at Deluxe. This was the Anne from their first meeting at Caladium. Bright, honest and open. Curious. Raw. Somehow that rocked Ann to the core. 

She tried to act like she was listening to the walking history lesson but was thrown off her efforts when Anne reached around her waist and grabbed her, bringing her to an abrupt stop by pressing her fully into her side.

“Whoah, watch out there. Don’t want you getting run over before we get where we’re going!”

Ann blinked. Then blinked again. They were inches from walking into the intersection of Newbury and Clarendon streets, against the light. Cars zipped by. A man on a bicycle wove in and out of the traffic. Ann looked up and was met with a playful light dancing in Anne’s eyes. Her sunglasses had been pushed back on top of her head and the breeze slid through her hair. They were close. So close. Too close, Ann thought. 

“Well,” Ann quipped in defense. “If you weren’t giving such an interesting history lesson maybe I’d be able to pay more attention to where I was going!”

Anne laughed, her head thrown back so that the sound came down around them. 

“I’m just glad you’ve picked up on looking the other direction when crossing the street. That one took me a few close calls before I remembered to look left instead of right.”

Then it was done. Anne set her right and continued on, her hand slipping from its grip on Ann’s waist to push her sunglasses back down on her nose. They crossed the street when the light turned, and then strolled right down Newbury Street towards the Public Gardens. 

“Anyway, this all used to be underwater. All this and the rest of Back Bay was part of the harbor, but everything was getting over crowded so they decided to fill it in, building as they went. Soon enough, everyone wanted to live on Newbury Street - even more than Beacon Hill. So, I guess you could say it’s been a snobby neighborhood since it’s very beginning.” Anne laughed at herself. “But you can’t say that the architecture isn’t gorgeous, though I do prefer Comm Ave over Newbury any day of the week.”

“I helped Adelaide with a big window box installation on Comm Ave!” Ann added. “It was my first day of work and I thought I was going to die! We had to haul three huge bags of soil, five flats of plants and all of our tools up fourteen flights of luxury, cream-colored carpeted stairs. Because of course the client’s condo was on the top floor. It was absolutely dreadful and I almost quit on the spot.”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

“It was either that or being a barista, and no way I was going to do that. Or clothing retail.”

“Ah,” Anne replied. “But aren’t you a coffee lover?”

“Oh sure, all day long, but I can’t make a decent cup of coffee to save my life. I’ve spent more time in coffee shops than I have anywhere else in my life! I will spend all my money on coffee, but I’m all set if I have to make it myself.”

\---

They came up to the Public Gardens and strolled through the wrought iron gates. It was an easy sell for Ann, and she would’ve spent the entire afternoon there if she had been given the option. As they strolled down the paths, Ann stopped them frequently to touch and fawn over the roses. She knew each name and shared each one with Anne. Even though she was pretty sure Anne already knew all about them, she told her anyway. She was amazed by the way Anne was able to flip between spewing information in a dramatic fashion to being completely enthralled with what Ann was telling her. Ann tried, but she couldn’t recall another moment from her life where she felt so...heard.

Somewhere between fondling the roses and walking across the street into the Boston Common, Ann realized she had completely relaxed into Anne’s presence and was able to meet her quip for quip. That being said, her bag with all of her books was starting to weigh her down, especially as she was trying to keep up with Anne’s long strides. 

As they strolled into the heart of the Common Anne slowed to a stop near the small brick building slightly off the beaten bath. She slung her bag off of her arm, reached in and dug around for a moment before brandishing a leather wallet.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of lugging this bag around. I’m gonna put it in my car before we head over to the  Athenæum. You’re more than welcome to toss yours in there too.”

Ann noted Anne’s tote bag and how light it looked compared to hers. Apparently Anne was also very good at throwing struggling women a life raft. She let her heavy tote slip from her shoulder and grabbed the straps with her hand as a response.

She watched as Anne cocked her eyebrow at her before pulling a blue paper card out of her wallet while tucking her sunglassed into the vee of her button down shirt. Anne slid the card through the reader on the side of the building, beside the double doors. The lock mechanism popped and Anne pulled the door open, gesturing for Ann to go through. 

“They didn't used to lock the doors to the parking garage until 10, but then they started having a bit of a vagrant problem. That’s Boston for you I guess.”

Ann followed Anne down two flights of stairs and out of the corridor into an expansive parking garage that seemed to go on forever in every direction. The clicks from Ann’s sandals echoed off the walls. 

“Does this car park go under every inch of the common? This is like something out of the Matrix!”

“Yes! It does. In fact you can access the garage from all four corners of the Common. It’s very convenient. I like to park here if I’m coming or going somewhere outside the city after working at the library. It’s easier for me than having to walk back to the South End with all my papers and books and things.”

Ann scoffed. 

“I guess you’re pretty lucky then. I have to drag all of my shit back and forth on the T from West Roxbury every day. It is  _ so _ much fun, let me tell you!”

Anne came to a stop behind a tall, shiny, four-door, white Jeep. After unlocking it she grabbed the bag out of Ann’s hand and placed it in the small trunk beside a leather weekender bag that looked rather full. She exchanged her tote bag for a crossbody leather purse and sat on the edge of the trunk while swapping the contents. 

“Are you going somewhere?” Ann asked. 

Anne lifted her head and shot her a dazzling smile.

“In fact, I am! I actually spend most of my summer down on the Cape. One of the best things I’ve ever done was to buy a cottage in Wellfleet. So, I end up spending as much time as I can there. It’s good for my soul, I guess you could say.” 

Anne paused.

“I was actually going to head down there this afternoon, but it seems like some pretty little thing has interrupted my plans.”

Ann felt an immediate blush creep over her chest and up her neck before she was able to form a rebuttal. 

“Well, Anne Lister, maybe you shouldn’t get into the habit of promising a paradise of rare books to said pretty thing. Maybe then you’d be able to carry on with your plans to your weekend retreat without interruption.”

Ann was met with what felt like a decade of silence. A coil of nerves wrapped tight in her stomach and for a moment she thought she had overstepped with her boldness. Anne sat on the edge of the trunk, her palms pressed into the rubber liner, staring right into Ann’s soul. Ann boldly met her, refusing to back down, frozen by some means of insanity that drew her to this woman named Anne Lister. 

Anne’s hand slid around her wrist and gently tugged Ann towards her until their knees were touching. Ann felt every sense of modesty and control and sense fly right out of her body. Desire dropped heavily into place, making her head throb in a way that now felt so foreign. How long had it been since she had felt this way? 

While Anne’s grip tightened around her wrist, Ann reached out for Anne’s thigh and let her fingers dance along the small designed rips in the denim. The skin of Anne’s leg was soft and warm and tan, a sharp contrast to her pale, cool fingers. When she met Anne’s eyes again, they were all but glazed over with what Ann recognized as mirroring desire. 

As Ann looked down at Anne, she wondered if she was used to this shifting power. She wondered how often Anne Lister let a woman stand over her. She wondered how much of it was a facade. How many of the cards did Anne really hold?

In a sudden strike of additional boldness Ann left her conquest of Anne’s thigh and brushed her thumb against the edge of Anne’s structured jawline. Not allowing herself more than a few seconds of touch there before dropping her hand back to her side. 

Anne’s eyes were still intently focused on Ann’s. 

“Ann, I certainly hope you know what you’re messing with here.”

Dozens of images shot through Ann’s mind. Dirty, salacious images of Anne and what she was capable of. Of what her body was capable of.

And then, again, it was over. Anne was getting up, gently moving Ann away from her and shutting the door to the trunk. Anne was walking away in the direction from which they came. She turned once she had almost reached the stairs.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you want to visit the paradise of rare books?”


	6. Do Something Crazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of you are so wonderful. Thank you for your comments and your patience! Still no beta and I kinda like it that way. Here's to me trying to post more often. We're in it now, folks!

VI

At first sight the  Athenæum was as amazing as Anne had promised it to be. The building stood at 10 ½ Beacon Street, caddy-corner to the Massachusetts State House and its golden dome. To anyone else the magnificent sight of the gold dome glittering in the sunlight would have dwarfed the simplicity of the stone building with the bright red doors, but Ann had barely looked back at the State House as they had strolled up Beacon Street. She was too wrapped up in Anne and where they were going. Even though the institution was private and against her beliefs that all libraries should be free and open to the public. Even though her family owned a massive estate with shelves and shelves of antiquated books back in England. It is true that Ann was born into the utmost privilege and had seen many wonders in her life, but nothing quite compared to the feeling of Anne sliding her long fingers between her own and leading her through those big red doors. Ann felt lighter with each step she took.

The grand stone foyer greeted them as they walked up the steps and through the small metal detector. A booming voice echoed around the domed ceiling and Anne casually dropped Ann’s hand.

“Anne!”

A very large man in a security uniform grabbed Anne’s offered hand and shook it firmly. 

“Martin! I was hoping you would be here today.”

“Well, you haven’t been around for a while. I thought maybe you had skipped town for the summer months.”

“You know me - I’m always busy. Always on the move.”

Ann shifted on her heels, slightly uncomfortable with their familiarity - but then Anne turned to her and was looking at her in that way that made her feel all at once comfortable and on edge.

“I was actually hoping to give my friend Ann here a tour,” Anne quipped.

Martin turned and gave Ann the once over before smiling at her.

“Martin is the king of gatekeepers here at the Athenæum. He’s the absolute best - when he’s not distracted by Mario Kart.”

“Gatekeeper is a bit dramatic don’t you think, Professor?” Martin teased. “And I’ll have you know that I’ve practically beat all records.”

“I’m sure you have, no doubt.”

“Alright then, I just need her identification and you’ll be good to go.”

Ann fished her wallet out of her pocket and handed Martin her driver’s license from the UK.

“Ah, two Red Coats Annes for the price of one!”

Anne rolled her eyes and whacked Martin on the shoulder with the palm of her hand.

“Follow me, Ann!”

\---

Anne whisked Ann around the Athenæum with as much vigor and enthusiasm as she had during their walk, albeit she spoke in an excited, soft tone. Ann stayed close to her side but was mostly silent as Anne explained the significance of all the building’s architecture and nooks and crannies. The place was mostly empty, save for a few librarians behind the help desk and a handful of patrons in various reading nooks. Ann quickly fell in love with the space and the vibe that it gave off, both in exclusivity and solitude. She imagined herself curled up in the leather chair by the massive window that looked out over the Granary Burial Ground, as Anne told her it was. A large aralia plant partially hid the seat from the rest of the library making it a dream of a spot. Ann preserved it to memory. Just in case she found herself back there again. 

She followed Anne to the end of the great hall, where she stopped in front of an ornate metal door. Anne turned to her with a smirk plastered on her mouth.

“Ann, are you ready for the best part of this entire building?”

Ann couldn’t help the laugh - one that she was forced to stifle into silence by the quietness that permeated every wall of the library.

Anne pushed the door open with one arm and gestured for Ann to go ahead of her with the other. Ann stepped in the room and immediately gasped with delight. The rows of metal bookcases spread out before her, light seeping through the glass floors above and below her. It was as if she had stepped into an ethereal alternate reality. While the aisles were narrow, it seemed like each shelf went on into infinity. Anne reached out and ran a solitary finger down the binding of a leather bound tome, hoping to imprint the moment into her mind. 

The heavy door thuded shut and sealed behind Anne.

“Isn’t it magnificent? They call this room “the Drum.”

“The drum?” 

“Yes, the Drum! Back in 1913 when they renovated the library they made this space fireproof, thus the glass floors and metal shelves. They hoped it would save the books if there was a massive fire. The Drum is actually 10 floors and runs from the basement all the way to the top floor of the library with a series of stairwells that connect the stacks. The side of the room is curved, like a drum.”

Ann arched her neck to look directly above her, where the light poured through through the glass in fractions. 

“What level are we on now?”

Anne took a few steps closer and leaned her shoulder against the metal support of the shelf.

“We’re almost right in the middle.”

Ann looked right into Anne’s face, maybe looked truly for the first time since that morning in Copley Square. In that moment she saw through Anne’s shield of bravado and intelligence and charisma. There were dark eyes, so dark they were almost black, sparkling with a childish mischief. There were the lines around her mouth and eyes that softened the sharpness of her nose and jaw line. The delicate arch of Anne’s eyebrows; the way she tucked her hair behind her ears when she realized that Ann was staring at her; the way she nervously bit her lip; the shyness that took Ann by surprise. Clearly Anne was used to  _ doing _ the looking and was not familiar with the act of being looked at by someone else.

“Do you bring all the ladies here?”

Ann took the bold chance, wondering if maybe Anne would take the bait. For a split second she wondered if all the mutual attraction had been a figment of her imagination. 

Anne rolled her eyes and chuckled.

“Ah - no. Actually, only the incredibly smart, witty ones.”

Ann’s heart leapt into her throat and pounded in her ears. She closed the distance between them, so close that their legs brushed against each other. She mimicked Anne’s posture by leaning against the shelf. What dream had she been dropped into? It was all so intoxicating and empowering. Ann felt the edges of her senses tingle with anticipation -- and one very bold fact became crystal clear.

“I want you.”

The words spilled out of Ann’s mouth on their own accord, but she didn’t care much to try and stop them.

Ann took Anne’s face between both of her hands and let her thumbs run across her high cheekbones. She waited for some clever response, but then she noticed that there was a glint in Anne’s eyes that was silently begging Ann to stake her claim. To be bold. To let herself be carried into the current of desire.

And so she did. Ann pressed her lips to Anne’s gently, but with perfect intention. They both stilled with the weight of the moment - and Ann’s body caught on fire. Every inch of her skin crawled with desire in a way she almost didn’t recognize. Ann slid her left hand down Anne’s jaw as she deepened the kiss until her fingers traveled across her neck and pressed into the skin there. 

A switch must have flipped in Anne because before she knew it Ann was being shoved into the stacks, her back pressed into the binding of books and the metal of the shelves. Anne’s tongue traced the bottom of Ann’s upper lip and she lost every inch of resolve she was holding on to. Ann slid her hands up into Anne’s hair, sending her sunglasses flying to the floor. She lost every sense that connected her to the physical world. There was only Anne and the way she pressed her body into hers. Hands were everywhere. Teeth were biting lips. A leg wedged between Ann’s, mounting her there against the books - and she momentarily realized Anne was holding her upright. She felt delicious pressure all over. Fingers on her hips, creeping under her shirt. Lips forcefully working down the side of her neck. More fingers dancing over her collarbone. The smoothness of silky hair running through her fingers.

Ann’s desire had escalated from a longing twitch into a deep, painful ache that was demanding to be released. Her body pulsed as she pressed herself down onto Anne’s leg and through the fog she knew that she was so extremely close to toppling over the edge. It had been so, so long since someone had made her feel this way. It would be so easy for her to beg Anne. To grab her hand and press it into her core. To slide those long fingers beneath the waistband of her pants. 

Someone in the Drum, a door swung open and footsteps echoed up into the stacks. They both froze, clinging to each other as if they would fall over if not supported. After a moment Anne took a step back across the aisle and put her head back. She was breathing heavily, even more so than Ann.

Ann attempted to straighten her shirt and smooth out her blonde hair, suddenly overcome with a deep embarrassment of how easily she had been right there at the brink of losing herself. And, she thought, she would have honestly let Anne Lister take her right then and there. She messed around, straightening herself and bent over to pick up Anne’s sunglasses. She stood up. Anne hadn’t taken her eyes off of her. Ann put Anne’s sunglasses on top of her own head.

“So, are we going to finish the tour?”

\---

Ann didn’t remember a single thing that Anne said during the rest of the time in the Athenæum. On their way out she excused herself to the restroom, where she discovered a bloom of purple erupting where her shoulder and neck met. Ann looked tousled, but she didn’t even care. 

They stepped out of the building and into the bright sunlight of the afternoon and Ann slid Anne’s sunglasses down onto her nose. She felt emboldened, but also unsure of what came next. Inside the Athenæum it seemed like they were in their own world. Out on the street it was business as usual. Traffic was picking up for early rush hour and people quickly pushed by the stationary pair on the sidewalk.

“Are you sticking around downtown for a while or are you heading home?” 

Ann looked at Anne, unsure of how to answer. She couldn’t nail down a cohesive thought, let alone plans for the rest of the day. 

“Um...I hadn’t really thought about it. I guess I should head back home and get started on some of that reading. Are you really heading down to the Cape tonight?”

“I’ll probably wait until after traffic, then drive down. Why don’t you let me drive you home, your bag is in my car after all.”

Ann’s mind jumped at the idea, but her manners got the better of her. 

“Oh, no. That’s okay. I wouldn’t want to make you drive all the way out to West Roxbury. I can just grab my bag and take the T home.”

Anne reached up and traced the purple bruise with the tip of her finger where it was just hidden under Ann’s shirt. Then she dropped her hand.

“Nope. Not happening. I simply won’t allow it. I can find something to do until traffic dies down and then I can just on I-95 by West Roxbury. It’s no matter. It would be my pleasure, actually.”

\---

Anne expertly guided her Jeep through Boston traffic. The windows were down, the music lulled in the background. They took Arlington Street down to the South End and then turned onto Tremont Street, drove past Caladium and through Roxbury to the edge of West Roxbury. Ann marveled at the ease in which Anne drove on the opposite side of the road. She really didn’t think she’d be able to do it if she had to. She adjusted Anne’s sunglasses on her own nose while her hair whipped around in the wind. 

“I am absolutely amazed by your ability to drive on the other side of the road. It’s just not right! Absolutely bonkers.”

Anne laughed and ran a hand through her hair.

“It’s not too bad, once you get the hang of it. You just have to mind your turns and lights and things like that. At first though, it was terrifying. But I have to have my autonomy - if I can’t drive myself somewhere I’m not really living.”

“At the next light, take a right and then your second left onto Norman. It’s the third house down.”

The neighborhood was lined with cute, multi family homes. There were trees and gardens and children playing ball in the street. It wasn’t so bad, Ann thought. At least it was away from the hustle and bustle of downtown.

Anne pulled the car to the side in front of Ann’s house. Ann saw that her roommate's car was in the driveway. She wasn’t horrible, but she wasn’t great either. She was usually stoned out of her mind the second she got home from work. Easy to avoid, but so fucking messy. 

As the car pulled to a stop, silence descended. It was an uneasy feeling that Ann didn’t quite know what to do with, so she escaped back to previous habits.

“Thank you so much for driving me home, Anne. I really appreciate it.”

“No, thank you for keeping me company...it was an unexpected delight seeing you.”

Anne’s dark eyes sparkled in the sun and she bit her lip before adjusting her hand on the steering wheel. Ann took a deep breath, opened the door and climbed out of the Jeep. She grabbed her bag from the trunk and slammed it shut before walking around to the driver’s side window. 

“Anne Lister, I am so happy that I met you.”

And with that, Ann turned and walked away before she lost her nerve. 

Upstairs she watched from her bedroom window as Anne put the car in drive and pulled away, a lit cigarette hanging from her fingers that dangled out the open window. She started unpacking her books onto her desk and then realized, with great panic, that she didn’t get Anne’s number, again, and had no way to contact her other than stalking her online. 

“Way to go, Walker. You’re a fucking idiot.”

\---

An hour later found Ann Walker five pages deep into a new journal. She scribbled the words onto the page, desperate to rid herself of all the emotions boiling beneath her surface. Music pounded through her headphones.

She was ripped from her land of fantasy by someone tearing a headphone out of her left ear.

“Hey - earth to Ann! There’s someone downstairs for you.”

Ann’s roommate Rebecca stood over her, eye rimmed red from the joint she could smell burning in the next room.

“Who is it?”

“I dunno - some foxy lady?”

Ann threw her headphones down and bolted down the stairs and flung the door open. 

Anne stepped forward and grabbed Ann’s face between her hands and pressed her mouth against hers. She pulled Ann to her with a great force and Ann had no other choice but to cling to Anne’s shoulders. 

And then it was over. Anne took a step back but took Ann’s hand in her own.

“I’m sorry. I couldn't just leave without doing that. And I have to ask you something.”

“Anne…”

“Are you interested in doing something a little crazy with me?”

“Crazy? Crazy like how?”

“Come to the Cape with me.”

Ann’s jaw dropped.

“Tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Anne, I have work tomorrow.”

“Call out sick.”

“I’m literally her most reliable employee.”

“Then she will understand.”

“Anne...”

“Come with me. I can work on my fall syllabus and you can write and we can read and you can experience the Cape in the summertime. It’s magical. You will love it!”

Ann rocked back on her heels and pondered her options. Then she made a breakneck decision. 

“Give me ten minutes to pack a bag.”


End file.
